


Hold My Hand And We're Halfway There

by lhknox



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Thirteen, Death, F/F, Family, Love, Marriage, OC death, Travel, meet the parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-27 21:02:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6300274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lhknox/pseuds/lhknox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Now she stood with her soulmate by her side, and she watched a small family live a normal life filled with love and nothing much else, and for once, Clarke could see herself with greying hair, Lexa's hand in hers, and nothing but happiness for the rest of their days." </p><p>Lexa takes Clarke home to meet the family. I am actively pretending that Thirteen never happened. Three part series written under the influence of Barbra Streisand music.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Storm Hits

**Author's Note:**

> I would love any critique or feedback you have to offer. Enjoy.

She’s been awake for hours, but she’s not going to tell Lexa that. If the commander asks, she’ll say it was the bright morning sun shining through the windows that did it. She’ll say it was faint noise from the floors below, something that won’t make her sound pathetic.

In actual fact, Clarke has been awake, lying peacefully by her girlfriend’s side, watching her sleep for hours. She doesn’t mean to be creepy, but she loves seeing Lexa like this—soft and at peace, rather than almost constantly guarded. Her eyes trace Lexa’s form, mapping the commander’s every feature. 

Last night was the first time in weeks they’d seen each other. Clarke had just gotten back from elections in Arkadia, bearing good news-- the people had ousted Pike, and hopefully things would remain quiet and peaceful for a while. When she tried to describe her feelings for Lexa to her friends, she fell short. How could every word that came out of her mouth be such a cliche when her feelings for her girlfriend were unlike anything she had ever experienced before? What she held in her heart was wholly unique, a type of love and admiration so rare that regular people struggle to comprehend it in the slightest. Lexa doesn’t make Clarke feel complete, no, Lexa makes her feel like there’s even more of her to discover, that her potential is limitless, that her mind is infinite. 

Lexa makes Clarke’s life feel boundless. 

Lexa continues to sleep, and Clarke doesn’t blame her; they had spent most of their night holding each other close once again, the pleasure amplified by the weeks of absence.  
Clarke smiles to herself as Lexa begins to stir.

“Morning,” she whispers, tracing soft circles on her girlfriend’s arm.  
“Good morning, my love,” Lexa replies in Trigedasleng, knowing the effect the language has on Clarke. “These last weeks without you have been the strangest torture I have ever endured.”

Despite the power she holds, and the fierce loyalty of her subjects, Lexa never feels as safe as she does by Clarke’s side. Her actions, her thoughts-- everything meaningful in life-- it’s all tied to the blonde girl who fell from the sky and straight into Lexa’s heart. She had spent the last three weeks moping about the halls of the palace, her mind refusing to focus on anything but the ache she felt in the pit of her stomach when Clarke wasn’t with her.

“So how did your mother receive the news of our courtship?” Lexa inquires. They hadn’t had much of a chance to speak last night, instead spending the time rediscovering each other’s bodies.

“About as well as we could’ve hoped for,” Clarke replies, “she respects you. She’s happy that I’m happy, and she insists she saw it coming the moment I moved to Polis.”

“And your friends?”

“Raven’s Raven. It’s hard for her to forget the past, same as Jasper. Monty thinks it’s hot. Octavia thinks you could do better.”

“Octavia is a fool,” Lexa mumbles, bringing Clarke’s hand to her lips, softly grazing the blonde’s palm. 

“And what of Bellamy?”

“You asked after my friends. Bellamy stopped being my friend the moment he handcuffed me to a chair.”

“You two have been through a lot together, and I know he means something to you,” Lexa says. She used to be jealous of Bellamy and Clarke’s undefined relationship-- more than friendship, yet never anything official-- but Clarke was her’s now, and there was no reason Clarke should lose a friend.

“No, you mean something to me. He tried to turn me over to Pike.”

“And I tried to kill you. Yet here we are.”

Clarke sat up, an incredulous laugh escaping her.

“Why are you defending him?”

“Because we all do what we think is right in the moment, ain hodnes. And… as much as I detest Bellamy Blake, he is a good and passionate comrade.” Clarke shakes her head. Lexa sighs.

“Forget I ever said anything, Clarke. Let’s just focus on our reunion.” She leans forward, ready to kiss her beloved, when the door is slammed open. Both girls groan when Titus hurries in.

“Titus this better be good,” Clarke growls. She doesn’t quite catch the panic etched on Titus’s features.

“Commander, I am sorry, but I couldn’t stop her.”

Clarke does, however, see the panic that flickers in Lexa’s eyes.

“She is here?”

“I managed to get a few of the guards distract her whilst I warned you.” Lexa curses under her breath, jumping out of bed in an instant. She ties her hair in a rough bun, and searches for proper clothing.

“Lexa? What’s happening? Who’s coming? Are we in danger?” Clarke fires rapid questions, afraid of the danger that allegedly lurks nearby.

“We are both in danger, Clarke. I need to get you out of here,” Lexa replies, pulling a shirt over her head. Before Clarke can respond, the door is thrown open again. The woman who enters is tall, and intimidatingly beautiful. Her head is shaved, and a haughty smile haunts her lips.

“Well this is certainly unexpected. Lexa, you never let your whores spend the night.” Clarke knows she should be offended, but she’s too scared of the unknown danger that stands before her. Lexa snarls at the woman, taking several steps forward, until her face is just inches from her foe.

“What do you think you’re doing here?”

“Still doing your faux intimidation, I see.” The woman takes a step around Lexa, coming even further into the room. She looks at her surroundings, taking in the lavish lifestyle of the commander.

“I asked you a question. You are not welcome here.”

“Why, Lexi, that’s no way to speak to a guest in your home,” the woman teases. Lexa cringes at the godawful nickname.

“And this is no way for a guest to act, barging in and insulting those who live here.”

“She lives here? How adorable. Lexi’s in love.”

“Never speak of Clarke again. And you will not call me Lexi. I am heda to you.”

The woman barks a harsh laugh.

“Oh, of course. My apologies, heda.” She sneers the title, mocking Lexa as she does so. “Clearly Wanheda here has conquered more than death, she’s conquered Lexi’s heart.”

“I will not be mocked by you. You, you insult my guest, you show no respect for your commander. You dare even show your face to begin with? After what you did to me?” Clarke has never seen Lexa like this before, so personally hurt by a person’s words. She was usually so calm and collected, not showing more emotion than was necessary. But this vile woman knew exactly how to push all the right buttons to get a response. 

She struts back to Lexa, putting their faces mere inches from each other.

“Let’s not forget that we both played a role in our past,” the stranger says in an almost whisper, “I deserve your apology just as much as I deserve your forgiveness.”

Lexa regards the woman for a moment, staring at her with critical eyes. She takes a step back, before putting her arm out to the stranger. The tall lady grasps Lexa’s forearm in a tight embrace, as they stare each other down. Letting go, Lexa throws her arms around the woman’s neck, hugging her tightly.

“You know,” the stranger says, “blonde isn’t really Lexa’s type. But the intense eyes you’ve got, that’s definitely her thing” There is no malice in her voice, no tension. Somehow, in one moment, the churning chaos dissipated, leaving Clarke even more confused than before. Lexa whirls around, as if she’s forgotten that Clarke was in the room.

“Clarke, I’m terribly sorry for what you just witnessed,” Lexa apologizes, “you shouldn’t have had to see any of that.”

“Would someone please just explain what is going on?” Clarke asks, exasperatedly.

“My apologies, Wanheda--”

“Call me Clarke,” Clarke interjects.

“-- Clarke, of course. I didn’t mean to frighten, nor insult you, in any way. I just enjoyed riling up Lexi like I did.”

“Daria, please don’t call me that, you know I hate it,” Lexa whines.

“No matter what fancy title you hold, you will always be Lexi to me,” the woman laughs, winking at the commander.

Clarke just shakes her head.

“But I still don’t know who you are,” says the blonde.

“Of course! Sorry, it’s been a long journey,” the woman replies. She bows to Clarke, before offering her hand out to shake.

“I am Daria kom Trikru,” she says, “and I am delighted to meet the woman who’s fallen in love with my little sister.”


	2. As The Flame Burns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And again, I would appreciate any reviews/critique that you could offer. I hope you enjoy the latest!

Clarke knows she shouldn’t really feel this betrayed. Sure, her relationship with Lexa was serious and moving very fast, and sure, Lexa knew almost everything about Clarke, but the blonde had headed into the relationship knowing that the commander was a private person. Should she feel upset that Lexa had not told her about her family? All the brunette had ever said was that the 12 tribes were her family, that she was the matriarch of a Coalition that brought together thousands of people. Not once had she mentioned parents, or siblings, or a family pet.

She sat with the two sisters in Lexa’s living room, finishing the breakfast they had asked be brought up.

“So, Daria, now that we are fed,” Lexa says, “what is your reason for visiting?”

Daria smiled, and ran a hand over her shaved head.

“As you could probably tell, I am to be wed.” Clarke looks at the sisters, confused.

“When two members of Trikru are to be bonded together, they both shave their heads before the ceremony,” Lexa explains.

“It is supposed to be a symbol of starting at the same level as your betrothed, growing and changing as one, rather than as individuals,” Daria finishes for her sister.

“Well in that case, congratulations,” Clarke offers, and Daria smiles and nods in acceptance of the well wishes.

“I want you to be at the ceremony, Lexa. And Clarke, you are also welcome to come, if you so wish.” Clarke thanks Daria for the invitation, whilst Lexa just stares at her sister critically, as if trying to piece something together.

“If your only objective were to invite me to your bonding ceremony, you would have brought your betrothed to meet me. Conversely, you could have sent a messenger.”

“Alexandria, do you still not trust me enough to believe what I am saying?” Daria questions.

“I just know how to read you better than you think, Big Sister,” Lexa replies, “and I know when you’re hiding something from me.” Daria meets her sister’s insistent glare, before looking down in almost-shame.

“Mother,” Daria finally says in Trigedasleng, “she is sick.”

Clarke watches the despair that flickers onto Lexa’s face for just a moment. The commander may be in control of her emotions, but Clarke knows how to pick up on the faint line of worry nestled between Lexa’s eyebrows, the way she’s moved forward just an inch.  
“What’s the matter?” Lexa replies in her native tongue.

“The dreaded disease. It has attacked her lungs, and there is not much more the healer can do for her.”

“How long does she have?”

“Days. Weeks. Months. We simply do not know. We take each day as it comes, but I fear with every sunrise that it will be her last.”

Lexa remains quiet, taking deep breaths to calm herself. Clarke grabs her hand and squeezes it tightly, and Lexa returns the force. Nobody says anything; Clarke and Daria both wait for Lexa to reply, but she doesn’t, she just sits there grasping Clarke’s hand like it’s her lifeforce.

“We’ll accompany you back to your village,” Clarke finally says, deciding to talk for Lexa, “we will attend your wedding together, and we will visit your mother.” She turns to Lexa who nods silently. Daria looks at her sister-- stoic, strong Lexa-- gripping to Clarke like a scared child. Sensing that Lexa needs some time alone with her girlfriend, she stands up.

“We will leave first thing tomorrow morning,” Daria tells the couple, “I will inform Titus of our journey.” She offers a small bow before retreating from the room.

The two girls sit in silence, Clarke not wanting to push Lexa.

“Clarke…” Lexa says, her voice so small and timid, so un-Lexa.

“I know, baby,” Clarke replies, “I know.”

“I haven’t seen her since I was sixteen. Sixteen.”

“Well it’s about time we show her what a wonderful person you’ve become.”

\--

Lexa has a restless night, and as a result, so does Clarke. They meet Daria by the front gates, and Clarke begins to head to the stables.

“No, Clarke,” Lexa calls out, “we cannot take horses on this journey.”

“Why not?”

“They make me sneeze,” Daria supplies, “we must make the journey by foot.”

“It only takes a day and a half, do not worry,” Lexa adds.

They travel mostly in silence. Daria asks Clarke questions about the Ark, and Arkadia, and Clarke asks her about her fiance. Neither of them speak of Lexa, who walks several paces ahead, and refuses to talk.

“So how did you two happen?” Daria inquires, finally breaching the taboo subject.

“Oh, you know, your run of the mill war and betrayal.” Clarke smiles as she hears a small chuckle come from Lexa. “When I moved to Polis as Skaikru’s ambassador, I got the privilege of seeing Lexa The Person, rather than just heda. It all happened very quickly after that.”

Trying to imagine life before Lexa is like trying to recall life before learning to speak or walk-- being with the commander feels innate within Clarke, so intrinsic, that it’s as though Lexa is the epicentre of her universe, as though all things in Clarke’s life revolve around this one point of pure perfection. To be without Lexa is to be without air, to be left for dead, to be nothing. Sometimes, the intensity of her own love scares Clarke, but all fear leaves her mind as soon as she stares into the curious, gentle eyes of her lover.

“Has she met your family?” Daria questions.

“You know she can hear, you right?”

“Why else would I ask?” Clarke laughs at the response, imagining Lexa to be blushing up ahead.

“Yes, she’s met my mother, and all of my friends,” the blonde answers.

“Well then it’s only fair that you’re meeting the family, too.” Clarke is apprehensive, to say the least. Though she’s already met one family member, she doesn’t know exactly what to expect from the rest of the family. She focuses on putting one foot in front of the other, to save her from thinking about the days that lie ahead.

As night begins to fall, the women find a small clearing perfect for camping. Daria looks through the surrounding forest to collect wood for a fire, as Clarke and Lexa go through their provisions for the evening.

“How are you doing?” Clarke asks quietly, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“I would be doing a lot better if you weren’t being so chummy with my sister,” Lexa grumbles.

“But you and her are on good terms,” responds Clarke, confused by her girlfriend’s hostility.

“Some wounds heal over time, others do not. I may have chosen to accept my sister back into my life, but that does not mean that I forgive her. I will never forgive her.”

“Lexa--”

“You cannot try and convince me otherwise, ain hod.”

“But we all do what we think is right in the moment,” says Clarke, quoting Lexa’s own words back to her.

“Daria didn’t act because she thought she was right in the situation,” Lexa spits, “she acted out of spite.”

“If I were you--”

“You’re not me, Clarke, and you have no idea what happened, so I’d appreciate it if you just stopped,” Lexa almost yells. She stands, and heads off into the forest.

“Where are you going?” Clarke calls after her, alarmed at the way Lexa is acting.

“To clear my head,” comes the reply, as Lexa storms away. She crosses paths with Daria as she leaves the clearing.

“My goodness, what’s wrong with her?” Daria inquires. Clarke doesn’t reply, she just stands, shocked, and wondering just what it was that Daria did to her sister to make her feel this way.

\--

Clarke stares into the crackling fire, replaying her conversation with Lexa over in her head. To her right, Lexa sleeps. Across the flames sits Daria, none the wiser to her sister’s earlier outburst of anger.

“You can ask, if you want,” Daria offers, quietly, “why we don’t speak. Why I know she’ll never properly forgive me.”

Clarke’s head snaps up, and her eyes meet with Daria’s, the latter’s filled with grief.

“What.... what did you do to her?” Clarke whispers in reply

“Lexa started training when she was four years old,” Daria begins, “She was talented, so very talented, and patient, and mature, and compassionate. By the time she was 7, she’d moved to Polis, and would return home to visit on a monthly basis.” Daria chuckles humorlessly.

“The older she got, the less frequent the visits became. And then she was sixteen, and we hadn’t seen her in over year. When we received word of her Conclave, the whole family came to Polis. While we were there she told us that in order to be an effective leader, that she couldn’t have family, that the Clan was her family. She didn’t need us as a distraction. I’ve seen her twice since that night. My parents… well, my father never saw her again.”

“That doesn’t answer my original question,” Clarke challenges, not at all surprised by Lexa’s past actions or motivations.

“No, but it helps me rationalize my actions,” Daria whispers, her gaze unmoving from the dying flames.

“Three years after the Conclave, my father was gravely injured. Healers couldn’t help, and so he lay in agony for days. On the third night, Lexa appeared at our home, wishing to see him.

“I refused her entry. She tried to convince me otherwise, but I reminded her that she was no longer a part of our family, that she had seen to that. When she realized she wouldn’t convince me otherwise, she left. He died hours later, calling Lexa’s name with his dying breaths.” 

Clarke could cry, trying to imagine Lexa being so hurt by her Daria’s actions that she just gave up. She remembers the last time she saw her own father, and how hard it was to say goodbye. She refuses to imagine how it would feel to not have had that last moment in his arms. 

“I was immature, foolish, and spiteful. I denied my sister such a simple act, I denied my father the chance to say goodbye to his daughter. It has haunted me ever since; I suppose it will always do so.” 

It was moments like this one that reminded Clarke that Lexa was so much more than heda, so much more than the person she allowed Clarke to see. For the blond, it is difficult to remember that mundane things could affect someone as extraordinary as Lexa.

“You said you’d seen her twice,” Clarke remembers, “when was the second time?”

Across the flames, she can see tears trace a path down Daria’s cheeks.

“The village got word of a death in Polis; the Commander’s lover had been tortured and murdered by Azgeda,” Daria explains. “The night after we received the news, I came home to find Lexi in my bed, crying. She had managed to sneak in without anybody seeing her. I held her that night, I comforted her as best I could. Neither of us spoke, not once. And the next morning, she was gone.”

“Her name was Costia,” Clarke tells Daria, “and Lexa loved her very much.” Daria nods, accepting the information gratefully.

“Clarke… Our mother is going to die. I will have people to help me grieve, my husband, and sister, and her family. But Lexa, she will return to Polis--”  
“She will have me to support her, Daria. You don’t need to worry about her.” Clarke promises.

“You are her family now, Clarke.”

“I know.”

The flames die down until only embers remain. Slowly, Clarke drifts off to sleep, her slumber filled with images of her father’s dead body floating through space, and Lexa grieving over an empty grave


	3. A New Dawn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is the conclusion. Thanks for reading!!

The good weather mocks the sombre mood of the three women as they enter the Trikru village the following afternoon. After the previous night’s revelations, the day had been spent in almost-silence, Clarke still trying to process Lexa’s history.

Murmurs follow them as they walk, the grounders stunned that Lexa has returned to her village once more. Some bow out of respect, but Lexa acknowledges no-one; she walks with purpose, straight to her childhood home. A woman stands at the entrance, and Clarke can see from a distance that she is the spitting image of Lexa. As they approach the woman runs towards them, and straight into Lexa’s arms.

“Welcome home,” the woman says in Trigedasleng.

“Phyllipa,” Lexa breathes, returning the hug with force. The two women break apart, and Lexa turns to Clarke.

“Clarke, this is my little sister, Phyllipa. Phyllipa, this is… this is my Clarke.” Now that she can see the third sister up close, she notices the similarities between her and Lexa. They have the same eyes, the same small smile, the same rigid posture. Clarke smiles at the introduction, and offers her hand to Phyllipa, who promptly shakes it.

“It is nice to meet you, Clarke. And it is even better to see you again, Lexi.” Lexa smiles at her younger sister. 

“I understand that you have a family that I must be introduced to?” Lexa inquires, and Phyllipa leads the women into the old home. Inside stands a man, broad shouldered, and muscular, his face hidden by a short beard. In his arms sits a baby, no more than a year old.

“Lexa, this is my partner, Noah,” Phyllipa beams, “and my son, Julius.” Lexa approaches the man, and he gives a small bow.

“It is an honor to meet you, heda,” he says.

“Noah, you are part of my family. Call me Lexa,” she replies. Grinning, Noah offers the curious child to his aunt, who gladly takes him.

“Heya, Julius,” the commander coos at the little boy, and Clarke feels herself fall a tiny bit more in love with her girlfriend. “He is named for my father,” Lexa explains.

“It’s a wonderful name,” Clarke replies, smiling at the child. Julius reaches his chubby hands out to Noah, who gently takes his son into his arms once more.

“You have a handsome son, Phyllipa, and a gentle husband,” Lexa smiles, “I am glad that you’ve found happiness.”

“And I am glad that you’ve found yours,” Phyllipa replies, gesturing to Clarke, who blushes deeply.

For the first time in a very long time, thinking about her future did not give Clarke anxiety. Life on the Ark had been mundane and predictable, that is, until she was thrown into her prison cell. And ever since hitting the ground, it was as though she were trying to outrun an inescapable force that would kill her the first it chance it got. But now, now she stood with Lexa by her side, and she watched a small family live a normal life filled with love and nothing much else, and for once, Clarke could see herself with greying hair, with Lexa’s hand in hers.

A coughing sound cuts through the pleasantries, firmly planting Lexa back into the reality of her visit. Squeezing Clarke’s hand, she takes a deep breath, before going alone into her mother’s private room.

Despite spending the past two days of silence trying to prepare herself, Lexa lets out a small gasp when she sees the frail woman before her. Her mother is barely skin and bone, her face emaciated, and filled with pain. But when she sees her daughter standing in the doorway, her green eyes light up, joy defeating the pain.

“Nomon,” Lexa whispers, her eyes welling with tears.

“Lexa,” the woman breathes, “you have come back to me.” Lexa kneels by her mother’s side, and takes a small, bony hand in her own.

“I am sorry, Mama, for leaving you, and deserting our family--”

“Lexi,” she says, cutting off her daughter, “you have nothing to apologize for.”

“But Papa--”

“Your father was more proud of you than words could describe, and I, too am so very proud.”

“Every decision, every action, every step- I did everything for you, Mama. I did my best so you’d be safe, and so you’d be proud of who I’d become,” Lexa admits, not bothering to wipe away her tears.

“Oh, how I have missed you, Alexandria.” Lexa leans forward, and embraces her mother. She pulls away when she hears a knock on the doorframe. 

She beckons an apprehensive Clarke into the room, and turns to her mother.

“Mama, this is my love, Clarke,” Lexa introduces, “Clarke, this is my mother, Augusta kom Trikru.”

“It is an honor to meet you, Nomon Heda,” Clarke says, bowing deeply. When she stands straight, she sees Augusta’s eyes boring into her. Though they differ in shade to her daughter’s, they hold the same critical gleam.

“Clarke,” Augusta breathes, “a star sent straight from the heavens to be with my daughter.”

“I’m a very lucky woman,” Clarke tells Augusta, “your daughter is… well, she is everything.”

“I am glad that she has found solace within you, and more importantly, that she has found proper family in Polis.”

“You are still my family when I am in Polis,” Lexa tells the ailing woman.

“Yes, but you have been lonely there, and now, you have Clarke.”

\--

A few days later, two families gather around Augusta’s bed, as Daria’s bonding ceremony takes place. Her fiance, Venn, is taller than Noah, his head shaved bald for the ceremony. He and Daria stand hand in hand, wearing matching blue clothing. Clarke struggles to keep up with the swift pace of their Trigedasleng, but catches words like ‘oath’, ‘love’, ‘family’, and ‘forever’, and she can’t help but imagine herself standing in Daria’s place, with Lexa’s hands in her own, promising to love the grounder forever.  
A man with similar tattoos to Titus steps forward, and takes Venn and Daria’s right hands, and with a needle, he tattoos a small sun on each of their index fingers.

“You are committed to each other, like the earth to its sun,” the man says, and Venn and Daria link their hands, as their family members offer their congratulations. Lexa looks down at her mother, and sees her tearing up at the sight of her daughter’s finished ceremony. Clarke sees the wistful look on Lexa’s face, and knows that she desperately wants Augusta to witness her bonding ceremony, too.

And so, later that night, as the celebrations continue in the middle of the village, Clarke drags a confused Lexa back to her mother’s room, quietly shutting the door behind them.

“Lexa? Clarke? What is this about?” Augusta asks.

“I am wondering the same, Mama. Clarke?” Clarke takes a deep breath. 

“I know this isn’t the right way for things to be done, but we’re doing this anyway,” she tells the grounders. She stand facing Lexa, and holds her hands.

“Leksa kom Trikru, I vow to be with you for the rest of our lives, to support you through any decisions you need to make, to help you when you refuse to help yourself. I vow to hold you, to care for you, and to love you, forever.”

Lexa stares at Clarke, shocked.

“Clarke, we don’t have to--”

“No, we do. Because I know you need your mother to be at your bonding ceremony, and because I can deal with my mother when we return to Polis. So just… promise to love me.”

Uncharacter tears pool in Lexa’s eyes as well as in her mother’s. 

“I possess a book from the old world, and when I look at you, Clarke, I can think of only one passage: ‘Where you go, I will go, and where you lodge, I will lodge. Your people shall be my people, and your gods, my gods. Where you die, I will die, and there we shall be buried.’

“Clarke, I vow to follow you to the ends of this earth, to protect you, to stand by your side through any obstacles in our path. I vow to hold you in my heart, I vow to keep you in my arms, and I vow to love you forever.”

Clarke turns to the kit left behind by the old tattooed man, and procures ink and a needle, carefully handing it over to Augusta. Taking the blonde’s hand, she tattoos a crude sun on Clarke’s right index finger, before doing the same on Lexa’s.  
“Your individual journeys are over,” the sickly woman whispers, “and now, your journey together begins.”

Clarke kisses Lexa softly, before turning to Augusta.

“I am indebted to you, Mama. You gave me your daughter,” she says.

“Oh, Clarke, you have given me more than you could ever know.”

\--

Two nights after the wedding, Augusta takes a turn for the worst. Her daughters, and her sons- and daughter-in laws crowd around her small room, a solemn silence settling as Augusta’s breaths become weaker and shakier. Lexa’s holds her mother’s right hand, and Daria her left. Phyllipa rests a comforting hand on Augusta’s thigh.

“My children,” Augusta wheezes, though it is clear that each word brings with it pain, “you have made me so proud, all of you.” Clarke feels tears fall and moisten her cheeks. She feels so connected to this woman she’s only known for a few days; it’s as though she’s watching her own mother die.

“My fight is over,” Augusta breathes in Trigedasleng, and Clarke feels her stomach drop when she hears Lexa let out a single sob. The family sits together, listening as their matriarch’s breathing slow, and eventually sob.

Nobody moves a muscle, nobody knows how to react. Silent tears stream down everyone’s cheeks, as they feel the emptiness that fills the room.

“In peace may you leave the shore,” Clarke whispers, “In love may you find the next. Safe passage on your travels, until our final journey on the ground. May we meet again.”

“May we meet again,” the others echo.

\--

Lexa and Clarke enter the walls of Polis, greeted by the sight of a city in mourning. Nobody talks to one another, everything is draped with black cloth. When citizens catch sight of the couple, they bow silently, before moving on with their day.

“Our people are good people,” Lexa states, and Clarke hums in agreement.

The journey back had been difficult, as had been saying goodbye to Lexa’s family. They had left amidst promises to see each other again soon, and the sojourn back home had been done in almost-silence. The trip had undeniably brought them even closer together, and bonded them in ways neither had thought possible. Clarke was eager to go straight to Arkadia, to inform her mother and friends of her elopement, but she knew it was important for Lexa to get back into a proper routine in Polis. She also knew that the two of them needed some time to themselves before telling the wider world about their marriage. 

Lexa would probably tell Titus, which makes Clarke roll her eyes in anticipation. She imagines he won’t approve at all of their marriage, but she couldn’t care less, and neither could Lexa. Despite their grief, both girls were still relishing in their newfound commitment to each other.

By the time they finally make it back to their room, Lexa collapses on the bed, the last week of her life finally catching up to her. Clarke joins her on the bed, running a soothing hand up and down her back.

“I miss my mom,” Lexa whispers, her voice thick with emotion.

“I know, baby,” Clarke replies.

“I can’t wait for us to tell your mom.”

“I can. She’s gonna have a heart attack,” Clarke laughs.

Clarke doesn’t care, though. Her mom will probably object in some way, her friends will take time to come around to the idea, but for Clarke, being married to Lexa makes more sense than anything ever has before. Lexa is her sun, her stars, her entire goddamn solar system. And having met her lover’s family, seeing where she came from and understanding some of her past, well now Clarke loves Lexa more than she ever thought possible. Life on the ground is unpredictable and often frightening, but suddenly, with Lexa by her side, Clarke’s future looks is shining with hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There may or may not be a follow up series to this one, just because I really do love writing for Lexa and Clarke. Please leave a review if you can, I'd really appreciate any feedback or critique you have to offer!!


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